Love Love, or How Love Santa Saved the World
by carzla
Summary: [One Shot - X-Men: First Class] Before they were Professor X and Magneto, they were... Love Santa!


_**Love Love, or How Love Santa **__**Saved the World**_

_Disclaimer:_

_X-Men: First Class belongs to Marvel, while the song "Love Love" belongs to Take That. This story contains slash; feel free to hit the back button if it's not to your tastes. My friend and I only own this crazy little idea, though it was inspired by an interview Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy did for the movie. Thank you._

* * *

><p><strong>Full Summary:<strong>

**[One Shot**** – X-Men: First Class] Before he was Professor X, he was Charles Xavier. Before he was Magneto, he was Erik Lehnsherr. Before they were Professor X and Magneto, they were… Love Santa!**

* * *

><p>Charles Xavier did not think he had been happier in his entire life than what he was feeling right now. Everything this entire week had gone smoothly despite some of the hijinks that had occurred at the beginning. The children had all taken well to their training. Lots of progress had been made.<p>

Hank was no longer afraid of letting loose the animalistic nature inside of him.

Raven was going about her training regime dutifully and he had yet to hear a single word of complaint from her. A record, surely.

Sean had taken to flying like a hawk to the sky and had much better control over his vocal chords than he'd started out with.

Alex, with the help of Hank's device, could now control his energy blasts and direct them to where he wanted.

Last, but certainly not the least, Erik.

That beautiful memory that Charles had seen of Erik and his mother, the point between rage and serenity that was inside of Erik, unlocked and liberated. Erik had finally found the correct, perfect key to release the full magnitude of his powers, and it was… _stunning._

So, it was as he rode this perfect, wonderful mood that led to him suggesting to Erik that they have a celebratory dinner. A dinner that was filled with good food, savory wine and exceptionally good company. Charles knew that it couldn't have been just him who had been pleased with the week's achievements. He didn't even need to be a telepath to know that.

Then when Erik had suggested that they head to a nearby bar for more drinks, he had readily agreed. Everything had been going swimmingly well. There certainly was no harm in indulging in a little more drink.

* * *

><p>Erik Lehnsherr was beginning to suspect that he might've made a grave mistake in suggesting that he and Charles head to a bar after dinner. Charles had been in a good mood, a <em>very good<em> mood, and in a way, that had put Erik in a better mood than his own relatively-good mood earlier in the evening. There certainly had been some things to be happy about this time, which was more than he could say for himself normally.

The suggestion to get more drinks had sounded harmless enough (perfectly logical at the time, in fact); he knew that Charles could hold his drink. He did not, however, expect Charles to drink more than usual. Thus, that left him having to deal with a more than slightly inebriated telepath.

Charles just _had to be_ a silly, jovial drunk.

He had somehow managed to get them both back to the mansion without Charles spilling out the CIA's secret agendas at the top of his voice or that he'd spent the week successfully teaching his students how to harness their mutant powers. But now that _that_ seemingly difficult task was done, Charles seemed hell bent on throwing him yet another one.

Which was to get Charles from where they were standing behind the large front gates, into the mansion and into the telepath's bedroom. Charles seriously needed to sleep this one off.

The said man was rambling yet again, talking about newer and more outrageous ways to explore the depths and extents of their powers. Somehow, they had come on to the topic of Erik's own powers and flying. Erik had dismissed that particular idea almost immediately, though Charles was certain that it could work. Something about manipulating the Earth's electromagnetic fields, he'd said.

Possibly though, the even more mysterious "somehow", was that Charles had suddenly come to the conclusion that he was Cupid, but without the wings. Which of course led to the very serious problem (to Charles, of course, Erik would not be caught dead contemplating such a thing) of how a wingless Cupid could spray love throughout the world.

Charles' words, not his.

"If I made you fall in love with me, though, you could fly me anywhere."

"You're an idiot, Charles."

"An adorable idiot," Charles reminded him blithely, as he slung his arm over Erik's shoulder companionably.

"An adorable and drunk idiot," said Erik dryly. "Who should really be in bed right now."

"Be in bed when there's so much to do?" said Charles, "Never!"

He leaned in to stare intently into Erik's eyes and placed two fingers upon his temple with utmost solemnity.

Erik stared back. He fought not to raise an eyebrow.

A few seconds passed before Erik gave in. Even drunk and not using his telepathic powers, Charles could win any staring match hands down. It was something to do with those blue, blue eyes of his. They had a _special power_ of their own.

"What exactly are you trying to do, Charles?"

"Making you love me," said Charles earnestly, his brows scrunched up in concentration. "Is it working?"

Erik sighed and tried his best to resist the urge to heft Charles over his shoulder and dump the drunk man in his room. He tried even harder to resist the urge to change destinations and have the same drunk man in _another _room. Charles frowned and squeezed his eyes shut so hard it looked as though he was about to have a hernia.

"Love me!" insisted Charles loudly. "Love me!"

"Yes, yes, Charles," said Erik with a sigh as he tried to avoid Charles' _powerful_ cerulean eyes, "I love you."

_How could I not?_

"You do?" said Charles. "That's wonderful!" He made a grab for Erik's hand, but ended up grabbing part of his turtleneck instead. "Then you'll fly us around, won't you?"

"No, Charles, I won't."

"But you love me!" Charles pouted.

It had to be a capital crime to look _that cute_ while pouting, especially since Charles was certainly not a three-year-old – even if he was behaving like one right now.

"You have to!" the telepath insisted, still pouting with amazing likeliness to a three-year-old. "This is so not groovy!"

"Stop using that word, Charles," Erik admonished. "It makes you sound more ridiculous than you usually are."

"But people like it when I say groovy," slurred Charles. "They fall in love…" He dragged out the word as he stared soulfully into Erik's eyes, obviously attempting to be as seductive as possible and mostly just sounding very drunk, "…when I say "groovy"."

Erik snorted and attempted to pull Charles' hand off his top. "You are extremely drunk, Charles, now stop this and follow me into the mansion."

"Erik," whined Charles. "Think of all those people out there, without any love! They deserve love! C'mon, don't you ever wish you could get some love from me?"

"…I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"Flying is cool! Don't you wanna learn how to fly? Think of it as training! C'mon, just give it a try!"

Erik gave a long-suffering sigh and gave up attempting to pry his turtleneck from Charles' vice-like grasp. He could be extremely persistent for one so drunk.

"Alright, if I try to fly for a while, will you give this up and go back to your bedroom?"

"Oh, Erik," said Charles happily. "I knew you loved me. My telepi-telapa- mind thingy always works!"

"Yes, Charles," said Erik pacifyingly as Charles finally released his shirt- only to grab his shoulders as he clambered onto Erik's back like he was riding a pony.

"Fly, my friend! Fly!"

Erik tried to hide a grimace as he made a perfunctory attempt to flap his arms, feeling exceedingly silly and way too sober for his own good. The levels of drunkenness required to perform something of this level of idiocy was way higher than where he was. He didn't think he would ever reach such levels for himself. Charles, obviously, had no problem doing so – he just didn't have the right mutant powers to back him up.

"There, I tried. It failed. Now, let's get you to bed."

"No!" protested Charles, "You didn't do it properly! Remember what I told you- true focus is the point between rage and serenity!"

He placed two fingers to his temple and Erik nearly bucked like a frightened pony when Charles' voice resounded in his head.

_Focus, my friend. Fly and spread the love to everyone!_

Erik didn't bother to hide his grimace this time. "Shut up, Charles," he growled through gritted teeth.

_Too much rage_, said Charles' mind voice. _Needs more serenity._

Sighing heavily, Erik mentally steeled himself and gave into the inevitable even as he wondered how Charles could sound serious yet drunk at the same time. Focusing his power, he pushed downwards at the ground. As expected, absolutely nothing happened.

Feeling irritation begin to spiral into the ever-familiar rage, Erik began to stalk towards the mansion, uncaring that Charles was still clinging to him like a koala to a tree. Suddenly, he stopped in his steps, as a feeling of peace and dare he say it, love, pervaded his mind.

"Shhh, shhh," murmured Charles, his fingers lightly brushing Erik's temple, "Be calm, my friend. You can do this, I know you can."

"Damn you, Charles," muttered Erik, but even as he groused his frustration faded away, almost as though it had never existed to begin with.

With Charles gently guiding his mind, he pushed yet again, feeling almost as though he was once again on that sunlit green lawn with the other man, willing a satellite dish to move using nothing more than the power of his mind and the almost-forgotten warmth of a dearly-cherished memory.

Caught up in his concentration, he didn't even notice as his feet first left the ground. The first indication of his success came when Charles let out an excited whoop and clapped his back so hard he nearly dropped to the ground again.

"You're doing great, my friend!" yelled Charles, unheeding that his mouth was just inches from Erik's ear. "Keep it up!"

Erik pushed again, and the soaring, liberating feeling as he used his powers was exhilarating beyond belief. Ever so slowly, he rose into the air, Charles on his back. He was a little unsteady at first, though he suspected it could be because of Charles "The Distraction" Xavier on his back, whooping with joy and cheering, like a kid who had gotten all he wanted for Christmas and then some, right into his ear.

If he wasn't deaf by the end of this little experiment, it would be quite a miracle.

But he was beginning to agree with Charles and what he'd said about flying before. It was cool. It was enjoyable. It was a taste of blessed freedom that he had never once yet found, though perhaps was perilously close to right now, all because of the drunken telepath latched onto his back.

Erik had the feeling that if Charles chose to look at the brightest spot in his memory system again after tonight, he would find a new memory housed there. Though perhaps, there would be many more new memories there. If memories could migrate, Erik had the feeling every single one that contained Charles would now be there in that spot, sitting comfortably alongside with all he had of his mother.

Feeling emboldened by his success, Erik stopped merely rising upwards into the air. Instead, he began to attempt moving in specific directions. The first few "steps" had been shaky, but Charles was in his mind again and his movements and control smoothened, became more fluid. Once Erik felt he had gotten the hang of it, Charles slipped out of his mind again, leaving behind a contented aftertaste.

Now that he was confident that he wasn't going to send them crashing to their very unfortunate deaths, Erik gained speed, rising through the cold night air with the wind whipping around his face. Perhaps sensing that his "dream" was finally coming true, or perhaps it was just sheer drunkenness, Charles began to sing some song loudly, incoherently and tunelessly, as only drunken people could do.

"Why doncha teach yourr heart to feel-" hollered Charles. "Gimme gimme what, uh what- Give you love, love!"

It was a miracle that the man hadn't yet thrown an arm – or two – into the air. But Erik was glad for small miracles… even though Charles _was _wearing enough metal for him to catch him with his powers if Charles fell. Not that Erik was contemplating that.

"Let's go spread the love, my friend," said Erik with the slightest touch of fondness in his voice as he gazed out at the night sky, the mansion a pinprick of light amongst the sprawling fields that surrounded it.

"Yes," slurred Charles. "We're like the uh, Love Santa, spraying love all over the universe… spreading the love to everyone!"

Erik nodded, Charles' breath warm against his neck as he let the tiniest but possibly one of his most content smiles out. "We shall save the world with love, Charles."

It wasn't really part of his plans, but Charles had a way of making him reconsider what were the truly important things in life.

"Groovy."

* * *

><p><strong>This. What can we say about this? It was inspired largely due to James McAvoy saying to Michael Fassbender, "If I made you fall in love with me, though, you could fly me anywhere." in the interview. xD<strong>

**Hopefully, Charles and Erik weren't really OOC here. Though really, Charles was drunk and Erik was probably a little tipsy himself too. I have no idea how such fluffiness came about (I'm more of an angst-fic writer, and my friend too has a thing for angsty/tragic stuff), but I guess it was inevitable due to the nature of the interview. We're also kinda, but not really, sorry about Charles butchering the song Love Love. Being drunk explains away many a thing.**

**Also, my friend drew fanart based on the interview, which you can see here (remove the spaces): http :/ kazura - uyurin . livejournal . com / 169276 . html**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

_**carzla**_


End file.
